Remember him? One of Jacob's sons? According to Legends of the Jews, Michael, the archangel himself, took Levi up to heaven! Imagine that for a moment. A whirlwind trip to the celestial court.
Once there, Michael presents Levi to God with these powerful words: "O Lord of the world, this one is Thy lot, and the tenth belonging unto Thee." It's a declaration, a dedication. God, in response, stretches forth His hand and blesses Levi. But this isn't just any blessing. It's a promise that Levi's descendants would be God's servants on Earth, just as the angels serve Him in the heavens. Think about the implications! The Levites, set apart for sacred service.
But it doesn’t end there. Michael, ever the advocate, continues, "Doth not a king provide for the sustenance of his servants?" It's a rhetorical question, of course. And God’s answer is to designate for the Levites all that is holy. Meaning, they would be supported by the gifts and offerings brought to the Temple. A divine provision for a divine purpose.
Now, let’s shift gears a bit. Jacob, our patriarch, he of the famous dream and the even more famous wrestling match. He had a question, a deep one that gnawed at him. Remember how he received the blessing intended for Esau? It was… complicated, to say the least.
So, Jacob turns to an angel – likely the same angel he wrestled with – and asks point-blank: "My father conferred the blessing upon me that was intended for Esau, and now I desire to know whether thou wilt acknowledge the blessing as mine, or wilt bring charges against me on account of it." He wants validation. He needs to know if this blessing, obtained under less-than-ideal circumstances, is truly his.
The angel's reply is powerful. "I acknowledge the blessing to be thine by right." No hesitation. No ambiguity. "Thou didst not gain it by craft and cunning, and I and all the heavenly powers recognize it to be valid, for thou hast shown thyself master over the mighty powers of the heavens as over Esau and his legions."
Wow.
The angel acknowledges that Jacob's struggle, his wrestling – both literal and metaphorical – proved his worthiness. He overcame not just Esau, but the very forces of heaven. He demonstrated a strength, a resilience, that made the blessing rightfully his. It wasn't about trickery; it was about earning it.
What are we to make of all this? Perhaps it’s about the intertwining of the earthly and the divine. About how blessings aren't just given, but sometimes fought for, negotiated for, and ultimately, validated by something larger than ourselves. The stories in Legends of the Jews, like this one, are so fascinating because they remind us that even the most sacred narratives are deeply human, filled with questions, struggles, and the constant search for meaning.